Perfect Circle
by tromana
Summary: 'My nightmares are usually about losing you.' Naomi, trying to work out what's real and what's not. Naomi/Emily, during series 4. Written for the Skins Reverse Big Bang on LiveJournal.


**Title: **Perfect Circle  
**Author: **tromana**  
****Rating: **T  
**Warnings: **Swearing, a bit of violence.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own Skins.  
**Summary: **'My nightmares are usually about losing you.' Naomi, trying to work out what's real and what's not.  
**Notes: **Thank you to Miss Peg for betaing and to my wonderful artist, pennylane101, especially for giving me such a free rein with this one. Written for the Skins Reverse Big Bang on LiveJournal.

**Perfect Circle**

"Emily!"

Her voice came out as a strangled sob, she couldn't control it. Something was wrong; Emily was hurt, or something. Naomi thrashed about in the bed, the sheets entangling around her lower leg. She couldn't get to Emily, she was trapped, something, someone was holding onto her shoulders, pinning her down so she couldn't get up. Still, she tried, desperately, shouting, screaming for Emily, promising that she would be there as soon as possible. As soon as this bastard, whoever they were, let her free.

"Hush, you're fine, you're fine."

The tone of voice wasn't right. It wasn't Emily. Naomi forced her eyes open and bright sunlight pierced through unfamiliar curtains. They were standard, perfunctory, the kind that were found in cheap chain hotels. She squinted and tried to blink the sleep? Yes, sleep, away. She hadn't even realised she had been dosing; it had felt so vivid, so _real_.

A stranger's eyes stared back down at her.

Naomi couldn't ignore the hurt in the chocolate brown eyes of, what was her name again? Sophie? No, Sophia. That was easily explained, however. It was probably because she had been crying out the name of another girl in her sleep. Automatically, Naomi lifted her hands and rubbed her temples, in attempt to dispel the oncoming headache. She sincerely doubted it would do any good, but it was better than just lying there, doing fuck all and letting the pain come over her, wave on wave.

Really, she knew she should have been more startled about the concept of finding herself in bed with another woman, somebody who wasn't her little redhead. However, she felt… nothing. Well, not nothing. More confusion. This was meant to help, meant to be proof positive that she didn't need Emily, that she hadn't been a controlling influence in her life, for how long? Fucking hell, five years. That was half a decade. Fuck, shit, Christ. How could it have been that long? And obviously, this little experiment, this deviation, whatever the hell you wanted to call it, wasn't working.

Emily had invaded her dreams just as she had invaded every other aspect of her life. For years, Naomi had been telling herself that she was strictly straight, that it was all about the cock, dick, men, men, men. She didn't love women (or a woman?), that wasn't the way it went. Not in her life. Of course, there was nothing wrong with being gay, or bisexual, Naomi was all for equality and that shit, it just wasn't her.

Or so she had told herself. She'd repeated the mantra time and time again, she was straight and nothing was going to change that.

But something (someone?) had.

Because wherever she was, whatever she did, Emily was there, like a shadow, hiding, waiting. She didn't have to be physically there, of course. Inside her mind, that was where she was. Of all the people to be her personal headfuck, it had to be Emily Fucking Fitch, didn't it? The one girl who most people couldn't be bothered to give a second thought had to be the one to have such a catastrophic effect on her, didn't she?

However, that didn't explain why she fell into bed with Sophia, did it? She remembered the shots and the fags, the mocking of the university they'd just seen, falling about and laughing with the girl lying next to her, with a furrowed brow. The falling out of a club drunk and then, then… well, Sophia had probably invited her back to the hotel room and one thing lead to another, as these things did. Had she managed to keep Emily out of her mind then?

No.

Definitely not.

If she had, then she wouldn't have doubted every single step she'd taken since leaving Bristol on this jaunt. Wouldn't have told herself time and time again that Emily didn't control her, that she could look at different universities without her girlfriend in tow. Even in bed, with Sophia, Emily hadn't strayed too far from her thoughts.

And now, now, she was feeling what? Shame? Guilt? Disappointment? Had sleeping with Sophia proved anything? Whether or not she was gay, bisexual or if it was just Emily?

Not really. All it had done was manage to add to the confusion.

She had to get out here, get home. Or something.

Quickly, she mumbled something incoherent to Sophia, a garbled mix between an apology and a request to use the shower. Naomi wasn't thinking straight, she knew as much as that.

All she could do was hope that familiar surroundings would help.

But then, _Emily_ would be there wouldn't she?

Jesus Christ.

xxx

She sat in silence on the bus, not even bothering to listen to music. Her elbow was propped up on the window ledge, her head resting lightly on her wrist as she stared wistfully out of the window. To anybody else, she looked at peace, a perfect picture of pensive solitude. Of course, things were never that simple.

Naomi had things on her mind.

Perfume lingered on her hands. Not her own; Naomi wasn't really one for something as ostentatious as that. A little bit of body spray was more than enough for her. It wasn't even her girlfriend's, Emily's. No, the owner of this perfume was _Sophia_. It was like she'd been branded, marked. It was also a sign of her own infidelity. The fact that she had dared to cheat on the love of her life. As if, at the tender age of seventeen, she could have already found the one person she was destined (or doomed?) to spend the rest of her life with. The shower obviously hadn't managed to wash away the smell, but then again, Sophia's farewell kiss on the cheek probably didn't help matters either.

The bus pulled up at a stop and a bunch of teenagers – not from Roundview, or at least, she didn't think they were – climbed on. Booze was offered between them freely and they seemed to be trying to be as noisy as feasibly possible. Naomi rested her pounding head against the cool window pane, in the vain hope that it would soothe away the pain. Oh she would be so lucky.

Still, it wasn't long until her stop. Then, then she could finally have a cigarette and maybe start to relax. Then and only then, would she have any hope of getting rid of her headache. The painkillers she'd taken hadn't even had the consideration to take the edge off of it.

It was probably the stress, worrying about what Emily would say when she got home.

After all, it all came down to Emily, didn't it?

xxx

When she got home, Naomi was greeted by a cold dinner on the table and a wilting bunch of flowers. Emily herself was nowhere to be seen. Furrowing her brow, Naomi picked up the plate and stuffed it in the microwave for five minutes. Having lived in a sort of commune for so long, it had made her pick up the mantra of 'waste not, want not'. The food may have been cold, but it didn't mean it was completely and utterly unusable. Besides, she had only just realised just how starved she was. Then again, it was her own fault; she had been so lost in her own thoughts that the concept of eating hadn't even crossed her mind for a second.

Whilst the food was heating up, Naomi headed straight outdoors. When Emily had moved in (or, quite possibly, foisted herself upon her; she was never given a chance to decline her girlfriend moving in), she had promised that she would smoke outside from now on. Sometimes, it felt like all she ever did to Emily was give, give, give and it wasn't enough. Would never be enough. All because whatever she did and wherever she went, Emily was only two steps behind.

Who would have thought that twelve year old girl would never leave her? She wasn't the same as she was back then, who was? But that didn't matter; she was still the same person, at heart. And that was what scared Naomi the most. She hated feeling so tied to her, just wanted some time to find out who she was on her own, without having Emily's constant guiding hand. It was almost as if the red head had actively encouraged her sexuality (and, really, Naomi knew she had) and sometimes, it left her wondering if this was all her life was destined to be.

She shuddered slightly in the cool breeze of the back garden. Cupping her hand around the cigarette, it took her a couple of attempts to light it. Naomi breathed a sigh of relief after she inhaled that first, relaxing breath. It wouldn't be too long until the soothing nicotine reached her rattled nerves now. Smoking made everything seem so much simpler, gave her a chance to escape everything.

And yet, like Emily, it was a drug. She had to keep coming back for more and more. Naomi couldn't envisage a time when she would be free from smoking, just as she couldn't imagine when she would shake off Emily. She was shackled to the both of them and didn't know exactly what to do.

Naomi's frown deepened and she extinguished the cigarette on the wall, dumping the butt on the growing pile of detritus on the floor. It didn't matter, not really. Sooner or later, it would disintegrate; they were biodegradable, after all. Not that her mother saw it that way, mind. But Gina's opinion didn't particularly matter. She had fucked right off, looking for enlightenment or some sort of bullshit. Really, it was just running away and leaving her only daughter to pick up the pieces behind her. In frustration, Naomi kicked the wall she had been sitting on and swore loudly. _Christ,_ she needed her mother now. Though they had had a fractious relationship at times, through no real fault of either of them, it didn't mean she didn't appreciate her mother's opinion.

And she really did miss her.

It was at that moment when she saw Emily's tear-stained face peeking out through the kitchen blind. She'd probably wondered where the hell Naomi had been for the past couple of days. Well, good, she decided at that moment. She had her own life and her own decisions, she reminded herself firmly. Just because they were together, it didn't mean they had to do absolutely everything with one another. It didn't even mean she owed it to Emily to tell her her every move. And she certainly couldn't tell her what happened with Sophia.

But all of that didn't eradicate the look of hurt in Emily's eyes, nor did it change the fact the shrinking sense of guilt was enveloping her once more.

What the fuck had she done?

xxx

It was happening again.

Emily was hurt, physically. Could have even been bleeding out, for all she knew. Naomi rushed to the door and started pounding violently at it. Nobody answered; how could they? She was alone, had locked herself in that room and done unimaginable things to herself, simply because she was so _fucking_ hurt. Something had driven her over the edge, had been the catalyst to cause Emily to want to hurt herself.

Why the hell hadn't she started to talk to her instead? Why had she wanted to do something so drastic, so fucking permanent to herself? Just for attention? Was that all?

Or was there more than that?

Had Naomi herself been the trigger for this?

At the thought, the bile started to rise up her throat, the acid burning as she did so. In response, Naomi grew more frantic, like a starved tiger, crazed and taunted by passersby with sticks. All she wanted to do was get through this door and, and…

She started shaking violently when she heard a pained whimper. Not because Emily was still alive – no that was a good thing, of course – but because it meant that something _worse_ could still happen to her if she didn't let her in.

"Emily," she called frantically. "Emily, let me in! I'm here, it'll be…"

"Okay," Emily finished off for her, her husky tones soothing and calm. "Naomi, you're okay, I'm here, I'm _here_. Nothing's wrong."

Naomi opened her eyes, the corners stinging from tears that had yet to fall. Her heart was beating at ten to the dozen and she couldn't catch her breath. With gentle hands, Emily helped manoeuvre her into a sitting position. Then, she picked up the glass of water off the bedside table and encouraged Naomi to take small, regular sips, all the while rubbing her back soothingly. That felt good, too good. She didn't deserve it, not for what she'd—

But she hadn't done anything. Shit, it had just been a fucking nightmare (again) and, once more, she had been calling out for Emily in her sleep.

Once her breathing had regulated itself once more and her heart had stopped beating its military tattoo against her ribcage, Emily appeared visibly more relaxed. She smiled a crooked smile and offered Naomi to spill it all.

"Was just a nightmare," she coughed slightly, in response. "It was nothing."

"Naomi…" Emily implored.

Naomi couldn't keep Emily's gaze. "About losing you. It's always about losing you."

"Well I'm still here with you," she answered, grinning and entwined her fingers with Naomi's. "And I'm not going anywhere. We're both fine."

It was at that moment when Naomi's blood ran cold. Just because Emily was fine, it didn't mean she always would be.

And though she wasn't physically hurt, it didn't mean she wouldn't be emotionally, one day.

The damage had already been done and the truth always found a way to come out, sooner or later. Secrets never stayed secret for long.

Naomi understood that concept better than most. After all, she only needed to look at her own mother, who tried to hide her depression for far too long. The fruit never fell too far from the tree…

xxx

"Come here."

Naomi smiled as Emily pulled her closer and into the passionate embrace. It didn't take long for her to lose herself in the redhead's touch, but it was over almost as soon as it had begun. Emily was nervous, Naomi could tell that. Then again, she could hardly blame her. She was off back home, or rather, to her parent's house. It was partially to see her twin sister, Katie, but mostly to try and talk sense into her mother. Unfortunately, convincing Jenna Fitch that being gay wasn't just a phase or her rebelling, but something completely and utterly natural, wasn't going to be easy. In fact, Naomi knew she would probably have better luck drawing blood out of a stone.

"Good luck," she murmured once they eventually broke apart.

"Yeah, I'll need it."

She watched as Emily sauntered up the path, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder as she did so. Naomi waved slightly when Emily turned around to face her one last time. Once she was no longer in sight, she slowly closed the door and allowed herself to slip down it. Emily's mum had once said that she had corrupted her daughter, had made her turn out gay. The hint of irony in that very statement made Naomi let out a hollow laugh. If only she knew the truth. Naomi was the one who doubted her sexuality, who wondered 'what if'. Jenna Fitch's daughter was the one who was so sure of herself, who knew one hundred percent that she was gay.

Had she felt anything that one time when she was with Sophia? No, she had been constantly comparing and contrasting, wondering what _Emily _would think even though it hadn't even happened yet. Once she had relaxed enough and had a couple of drinks inside her, Naomi had enjoyed herself. However, it had been nothing more than just a throwaway evening. A one night stand. The thought of it alone made her feel a little sordid and dirty. And not only that, but it was threatening to tear herself apart from the inside.

She couldn't tell Emily, because she knew that would just chase her away. That it would break everything they had and the future they were slowly but surely building together. Naomi may have cheated on her, but that hadn't been the point of the exercise. What she had really wanted was to make everything equal between them. One thing Naomi hated was not being in control, and right now, everything was in Emily's hands.

How long could she keep living like this?

xxx

Before she could stop herself, Naomi's fist collided with Emily's forehead. It was almost as if the action had been slowed down, just so she could witness the very moment when Emily recoiled. She could see the shock of pain going through her system (both physical and emotional), the skin being broken and blood beginning to trickle out.

Emily took three steps backwards, her eyes saying it all. '_How could you? What have I done wrong? Why me?' _A tear trickled out of the corner of her left eye and it was that which broke Naomi in turn.

Then, she turned and fled upstairs, before Naomi even had a chance to stop her, to explain, to apologise. She hadn't even known what had come over her, what had triggered the action. Typically, she wasn't a violent person; she was a massive support of non-confrontation, of words before actions. She didn't want to physically hurt somebody. Really, she didn't want to hurt anyone at all.

She looked down at her hands. Her knuckles were covered with blood – Emily's blood. Shit, head injuries were bad. It could have triggered underlying problems – concussion, a hairline fracture, scarring to the brain – she, Naomi Campbell, could have done all that to the woman she loved. All through one fit of rage, because she hadn't been able to keep control of her temper.

What _had_ she done?

Naomi shook her head in attempt to come back to her senses. It just about worked. It was then that she found her feet automatically tracing Emily's steps, the words finally coming to her mouth, too little, too late. _'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I don't know what happened, I was just_ so_ angry, let me help you, you need to see a doctor. It won't happen again. Emily, I'm so, so sorry'_.

The bile was burning the back of her throat and she could feel the need to throw up, but she swallowed it down. This wasn't about her, not any more, this was about Emily. How she was hurting, how she needed her, how she had fucked up and needed to plead, beg for her forgiveness. She'd gone straight into the bathroom and locked the door. Jesus Christ, this was bad. Naomi threw her fists at it, pounding away desperately. Traces of Emily's blood transferred onto the pine door, probably staining it forever. Good, it'll provide her with the perfect reminder to never lay her hands on her girlfriend again. Still, she continued to lash out at the door, breaking the skin on her own fingers as she did so. There was no way she couldn't hear it; she was probably disturbing the neighbours with this desperate fit. Well, fuck them, let them complain. She needed to get to Emily, to help heal her with the hands which had done the damage in the first place. It was the only recompense she could think of at that moment in time.

"Emily! I'm sorry, please let me in."

No answer. She could have grown dizzy from the blood loss, fainted, knocked her head and made it all the worse.

"Emily!" she practically screamed; the crack in her voice evident as she continued to panic. ""Emily, let me in! I'm here, it'll be…"

A buzzing noise infiltrated her senses, somehow overcoming the noise that Naomi herself was making. She blinked several times and it was then that she realised it was just her mobile phone. Shaking herself awake, she grabbed hold of it, somewhat relieved that it had all been (yet another) nightmare. Naomi let out a slight smile when she noticed it was Emily calling, coming to her rescue as such. She answered the call immediately and was somewhat shaken when she heard Emily's tearful voice down the other end of the line.

Obviously, her meeting with her mother hadn't gone very well.

"Can you meet me at the pub?" she said timidly. "I'm not ready to come home yet, but fuck it, I need you Naomi."

xxx

Naomi watched as the wooden box fell from the roof of the car park and smashed into several pieces of the ground.

Emily was standing there, broken hearted, as the truth had been spilled out before them.

All the hurt, the agony that she had been trying to avoid, had kept compartmentalised for so long now, was out in the open. The metaphorical pain that had haunted her dreams was suddenly real and present.

And there was no going back.

end


End file.
